


Memories From Long Ago

by Kosei



Series: Memories [1]
Category: Splatoon
Genre: Childhood, Childhood Memories, Crushes, Growing Up, M/M, Past, Teenagers, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-10-06 16:04:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17348285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kosei/pseuds/Kosei
Summary: One sunny day Cap'n Cuttlefish relieves memories from what feels like a completely different way of life. From his childhood, to the war, to... him.





	1. The United Sea Federation

In the underbelly of the small cabin in Octo valley, a beast slept.  
A beast of old memories, pictures, poems, yearbooks, journals, even a painting or two. Things from a bygone era, the pictures black and white, the papers yellowed, and soft, and worn to the touch. In the end, it's all just stuff. No matter where it was from. The most important thing to an old withered man who spends his days watching the sky, are his own memories.

Craig Machino Cuttlefish was born October 15th, 1921, In a country known as the United Sea Federation. A industrialized country to the west, whose morals and values were based on individualism, free speech, and the promise that no matter who you were and where you were from, with hard work, you could do anything.  
Cuttlefish was born into a family of four, his brother, Brett, who was a year older than him, who, even as a young kid was different from most. He just seemed more... mature.

"Hey! Hey! Brett! Brett! Let's play kickball!"  
"It's raining."  
"Let's play it inside then."  
"Mom just bought a new vase. What if it knocks it down? Then it'll break."  
"...Fine. I'll play by myself!"  
"Don't say I didn't warn you."

And there was nothing he loved more than a rainy day, it was an excuse for him to stay inside   
and read, all day long.

"I hate rainy days... I can't go outside and it hurts!"  
"Mm hmm."  
"Whatcha reading there?"  
"Nothing much. Just a autobiography on Charles Goldfish that dad got from his coworkers."  
"...who the heck is Charles Goldfish?"

His mother, named Suki, was from a country to the East, a island whose name in the Mizu inklish dialect was "Mizuwa" in the dialect Cuttlefish spoke it was referred to as "Island of water" which even as a kid sounded stupid. Mizuwa was also a industrialized country in which they prided themselves more on sacrificing themselves for the good of the group, and the bond between blood.  
When her family was going through hard times, without hesitation, she married with hopes of sending back money to them. Even if that meant having to bid goodbye to the country she called home. Her family accepts the money, but at that point they hadn't really talked in years. Even still, she was a very kind and thoughtful mother, who didn't like scolding her children, so it was all left up to the father when it came to disciplining them.

His father, which he referred to as "Sir" so much he couldn't even remember his damned name was the complete opposite of what you could call a motherly person. He was a born and bread citizen of the United Sea Federation and wouldn't have wanted it any other way, he was the definite breadwinner of the family, very traditional in his values and beliefs, and a very devout follower of cod, and was also the manager for a used car lot, frequently he would yell and curse like a sailor, threatening the kids whenever they did something wrong, or whenever he was in a crabby mood, which was almost always.  
The few times he wasn't, he wasn't a terrible dad, and tried to relate and do what they liked doing, Brett, who was practically an encyclopedia, 

"Whattya reading there sport?"  
"That autobiography you got."  
"That thing? Can't believe you're reading that. Who knew goldfish were such egomaniacs, the whole thing is about himself!"  
"That's what a autobiography is."  
"That's my boy, I was wondering if you were going to catch that!"

He especially loved Craig's love for sports.

"Hey dad?"  
"What is it?"  
Craig can distinctly remember the crumpling of newspaper.  
"Wanna play ball?"  
" wanna toss the ol' ball around with your old man? Fine, prepare to lose."  
"Daaaaad..."

 

And that was their relationship in a nutshell.  
During elementary school Craig was the popular one, the leader of the pack it seemed, whatever he wanted to do the others were alright with following. Brett preferred doing his own thing on the side, this didn't make him popular but he was never made fun of, so their days were full of good rosy cheeked memories.  
When Craig was 8 years old, the stock market crashed and suddenly all the money they had was pulled out of the bank, his job was suddenly gone, and hushed discussions on money when they thought the boys were asleep had become the norm.

"Craig what are you doing?"  
Hushed whispers filled the hall, Craig could feel the cool wooden door against his ear, his knees aching from putting their weight on the hard wooden floor, his feet brushed against the rug in the middle of the hall.  
"Shh. Listen..."  
"You're going to get in trouble."  
"Just hush and listen...!"  
A sigh forms and brett complys.  
"Listen, I don't know how long we can last without my job."  
"...I know honey. I didn't want to bring this up but my family-"  
"What? Have they finally said anything after me sending fucking money to them for years, even though I bet by fucking now they're doing a hell of a lot better."  
"...Yes. Letter not say much. They say how good country is doing. Maybe..."  
"What?!"  
"We get job there."  
"...You want us to move to there?!"  
"Well... maybe. It only going to get worse here. Paper say banks completely-"  
"I know about the goddamn banks! Over 7-fucking-hundred have shut down! I get that! I was lucky to get out the money while I could! I know!"  
"We should get out while we still can! While we still have the money!"  
"...Fine. You know what you're right, we can't stay like this forever, who knows how long this is going to last. But as soon as this shit ends, we're moving back here before you can say giggle water, toots!"  
"...You know I love you right, Harold?"

That's right. His name was Harold.

"Aw shucks, come here angel face..."  
He could hear the springs of the bed creak and thats when he knew to get out of there.

The next morning only just confirmed what happened last night really happened.

"We're moving. To Island of water."  
"W-"  
"DON'T complain or ask why. The decision has already been made and is final. We are leaving a week from now so say goodbye while you still can."

The brothers exchange looks but ultimately don't say anything. So, a week later, the 2 bid goodbye to the life they have always known, of rosy cheeked sundays of church, and apple pies after dinner, to gather their life i just a few bags, while the rest would be gone forever.


	2. Mizuwa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First meeting.

Cap'n could clearly remember the day he arrived in Mizuwa for the very first time.  
Mostly because he had gotten seasick on the week long trip on the boat and his father was even more crabby than before.

"Hurry up!"  
The few belongings they had managed to bring with them dragged behind them, craig could feel his head throbbing and his stomach twisting and turning, the sickness rising to his throat and threatening to spill out, but he knew he couldn't throw up, at least, not now.  
"I'm trying dad!"  
"Well quit trying and Ankle!"  
The sun shone right into his eyes, he could make out bright colors of garbs and the sandy beach they are walking away from, the tide was awfully high, it licked the town above which with the stomach and the sun, he couldn't see any of it.  
Next thing he knew he was inside a car with a person who kinda looked like mom, and they were saying something he couldn't understand, and his dad was growling, and, did Brett say somethi-  
"CHEESUS CHRIST DID YOU REALLY HAVE TO THROW UP NOW?!"

For the first few months, they stayed with their mothers family, it was a culture shock to say the least. Suddenly he had to wear slippers everywhere, he tore through a paper sliding door, there were mats on the ground that he has no idea what they are called, hes sleeping on the floor instead of a bed, and he's getting yelled at for a million different things and he has no idea what he's even getting yelled at for because he doesn't know the damned dialect and progress with learning is slow. Brett couldn't relate, he already nearly mastered it. His father, however, didn't fare off much better, refusing to adapt to the culture and constantly getting into arguments with his mother's family, cap'n wishes he could go back and ask how he and his mother met in the first place...  
His father only really made an effort to adapt once he got a job, after that they got their own place and moved to a town 5 miles away, named Octo valley. Like the name says, the population of Octolings were much higher than what Craig was used too. Visits from his family would be the norm much to his father's dismay.  
Around this time, Craig was 11 and starting to get into music and lyric writing, suddenly sports wasn't nearly as fun as tapping the beat to a song on the radio or trying to come up with your own song was much more fulfilling, he started carrying a notebook wherever he went. To say the least his dad wasn't thrilled.

 

"What you doing there sport?"  
"Writing a song dad."  
"...writing a song?! What happened to tossing the ol ball around?"  
"I like this better."  
All he could hear is grumbling as he stormed out the room

Meanwhile, at first he wasn't doing all that well in school, it being especially hard wit it being his first year in middle school, eventually though, he won some friends over. One who he'd never forget.

 

Out in the distance a mansion lay on top of the hill, overseeing the rest of the small town. School had just got released and students wearing uniforms... black ones. Stuffy hot black ones that were black all the way to you feet and a collar reaching up to your chin. The school crest which was a blur of grey in his memories stamped on the upper arm. His black loafers pinched the sides of his feet, he wished he could be wearing the bright kimonos the locals were wearing; they were much more comfortable looking.

 

"Why the big house up?" After seeing confused looks from his broken Inklish, he points up to mansion

"You don't know?!" he was a friend who's face and name he had long since forgotten. He was at the point in his Dialect learning he could understand others, but when it came to responding he had trouble.  
"why I asked..."  
"They OWN this town. They, well, they are royalty!"  
"WHAT??!"  
"Yeah, the Takowasa family owns the palace. Son of the emperor of Octo valley lives there. HE came from a long line of noblemen and samurai.  
"Woah! Swordsmen in school?! That is very much cool!" the rush of excitement flooded his head and he was about to take another step to-  
"Wha- hey! Where are you going?!"  
"Closer up! Duh!"  
"Are you crazy??! That's a literal palace!"  
"Crazy? Maybe. See you!"  
"Listen! I know you're new here but it's seriously not a good idea to go up there!"  
" Hope to see you at funeral!"  
He takes off running, he can hear their longing no longer as they grow further and further into the distance. As he gets closer he can see octoling guards on the top of the entrance, even if the idea of leaving had popped into his head, he can't head back now. He hears... music.  
"that musics fresh..."  
Of course that just solidifies what he has to do. Of course. Making his way past the guards, climbing a tree and making his way into a lush garden in the middle, where he spots a young octoling. The music is played on a stringed Koto- or is it a Zither? Shamisan Maybe? Who knows. What he is sure is that it has strings and is an instrument.  
Getting closer he speaks up.

 

"Hey there-"  
And finds himself at the end of a octo brush, the tip of it dipped in a rich royal purple ink, a deep scowl drawn across the face of who he was speaking to, wearing many a colorful robe where accents of gold were stitched in, in the bright daylight it had a stunning effect. He remembers him wearing a helmet of sorts. Was it the same one?  
"What are you doing here peasant?" he spits this out coursly  
"Nice to meet you too. I'm c-"  
"I asked what you were doing here."  
"Music good enough for me! totally berries!"  
"...what?"  
"Really good!"  
"Of course it was, I'm the prince."  
"Woah you are?! You young! Thought you be old!"  
"Why is your Inklish so bad?! I'm an octoling and I speak better Inklish than you!"  
He huffs and crosses his arms, pulling himself up to where he is looking down on Craig  
"Me from United Sea federation!"  
"...Right... What's it like...?"  
"Hm?"  
"Never been outside octo valley. What is it like?"  
Craig stood there for a moment, racking his brain for vocabulary so he can respond back.  
He doesn't get the chance.

"Never mind. GUARDS!"  
"W-wait!"  
And he is promptly tossed out. And that would be the end of it.If weren't for the fact, while tapping his finger at home, and reaching for his notebook...  
"H-huh?! Where'd it go??!"

The next day security is a bit stricter but he manages to get in all the same.  
"...where is it...?"  
Craig rummages around the garden while still trying to be somewhat sneaky.  
"Looking for this?"  
"Huh?!"  
The prince holds up the leather notebook, an unamused expression laced upon his cheeks  
"Ah thank you!," eagerly  
"Don't come back here Craig."  
"How you know name?!" He asks this with the shock clear in his voice.  
"It says it on the cover!" The prince retorts back, scoffing and rolling his eyes.  
Craig takes a quick glance at the chicken scratch on the front of the notebook.  
"Oh yeah..."  
" I can't believe you would would come back after already being thrown out once."  
"W-well I need finish song!"  
"...Right... Now get out or else im calling the guards."  
"wait! what you think of song?"  
"...Its not terrible I suppose..." The prince looks to the side, refusing to look him in the eyes.  
"What?! You read you like?!"  
"They need work . But they do have potental."  
"Thank you! Oh! What your name?"  
"Octavio." Craig clasps Octavios hands, his expression changes quickly to a puzzled one.  
"Let's be band!"  
It was silent for a long moment until Octavio breaks the silence.  
"What???!"  
And with that, the rest of his middle school days were full of sneaking around guards, writing and practicing songs, and staring up at the stars while jamming out. Their love for music guiding them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wanted to put something here... if I remember it I'll edit it in.  
> Oh yeah, I did take inspiration for their meeting from a different source, a webcomic called "Dissonant Melody"  
> It's just... I really do believe their love for music is something that really does tie them together. Sorry.  
> I thank you kindly, whoever left a kudos on here. It warms my self-loathing heart.


	3. Old love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Infactuation, deep desire, innocent, first time love.

“-I just can’t believe my little man’s going to be in highschool!”  
Craig felt the stinging sensation of his cheeks being pinched and the kiss on his cheek before getting the sense to bat his mom’s arm away.  
“I can’t believe he got into highschool either! He was just a few points away on that exam from having to work at a ramen shop for the rest of his life!”  
“Harold! We talked about this-”  
“Hey I don’t praise mediocrity. So what if you passed? Your brother is at the most prestigious high school there is in this stinking town-”  
“HAROLD!”  
“What it's true isn't it?! If he wants me to praise him, he has to work for it like Brett does, and get that damn music idea out of his head!”  
“For cod’s sake Harold will you just say something nice about your own son for once?!”  
“DON’T YOU FOR CODS SAKE ME! I know all about cod! I don’t need you to lecture me!”  
“IT'S HIS FIRST DAY OF HIGHSCHOOL!”  
“AND SO WHAT HE AIN’T SPECIAL, A MILLION OTHER PEOPLE ARE DOING THE SAME SHIT AS WE SPEAK!”  
Craig, sick of the fighting, up and leaves, and despite what his mother says, she doesn’t even notice.

“How’s high school?”

The sun hangs low in the sky, the waves shimmer in the distance, the air is warm and inviting, a scene ripped straight from a book.

“Ugh, you’re lucky you don’t have to go, that’s for damn sure.”

They sit up in the treehouse they built together when they were 12, well sort of built together, Craig just watched in fascination as Octavio did all the hammering and handed him a screw or two when he needed it.   
It’s not the prettiest, it being made of scrap metal, but it does work, and that's enough.

“That bad?”  
“You don’t know the half of it.” Craig collapses on the ground, Octavio just rolled his eyes at him.  
“Better than being with that stuffy council all day. You don’t know how lucky you are.”

The council, is a group of 5 stuffy individuals whose job, supposedly, is to get Octavio ready so he can do whatever and blah blah blah and a bag of chips, as far as he’s concerned all they’ve done is get in the way.

 

“You can say that once you’ve spent more than an hour around my dad.” Craig sits up criss-cross applesauce and reaches for his notebook, when suddenly a thought hits him.  
“Oh! By the way! How’d your thing go?”  
“What thing?” Octavio lazily plucks a few strings on a… was it a shamisen? Pretty sure it was…  
“The thing were you played for some duke duchess of fart ville or something.”  
Octavio stifles a laugh, “It was the count duke of Kutoka, and they hated it.”  
“WHAT?! But you’ve- WE’VE been practicing that-”  
“You know how they are, they just don’t get it like we do. Swear it, when I get my birthright I’m going to tear this town up, tired of these quiet country town aesthetics, we need to wake this place up!”  
Getting excited, eyes shining, hands curled into fists, craig finds himself standing up, “yeah, yeah! WAKE THIS TOWN UP!”  
“SUKER PUNCH THEM IN THE FACE!”  
“WITH THE POWER OF MUSIIIICCC!!!” craig punches the wall and immediately regrets it, “AW FUCK! OW! SON OF A FISH!”  
Octavio nearly busts a gut laughing, “a-are- are- are you o-okay?!”  
Cheeks nice and rosy, Craig attempts to shake the whole thing off, “y-yeah I’m fine, let’s just get this jam sesh going…”  
“G-got the sheet music?” Octavio asks, still laughing.  
“Right here!”  
Grateful for the change in subject, he hands it over, Octavio immediately frowns and shakes his head.  
“Che- Craig- what the fuck is this?”  
“...sheet music…?” Craig says, quizzically.  
“You put 10 damn notes in a OCTave- for fucks sake, do you not know what a Octagon is?!”  
“Yeah… it’s a shape!”  
“With how many sides?”  
“....5….?” craig tilts his head to the side, his head in deep thought.  
Octavio slaps himself and sighs a long drawn out one, most likely wondering how he puts up with this idiot.  
“I’m going to fix this while you do… whatever.”

Craig is 15 and Brett is 16. Brett is just the perfect brother, he always does what he’s asked, he’s on the way to be a lawyer, he’s just so fish-fucking, butter-melting, butt-clenching perfect.  
And Craig cannot stand it. He can’t have one egg-cracking moment without his PERFECT brother being mentioned.  
And for a hormonal teenager who’s only comfort is outside the classroom and home, he can’t fucking stand it.

“I’m going to tear this place up, spread my blood all upon you, rub my victory in your face, when they scream and shout my name, yours will be in a grave…? Craig, no joke, whats wrong with you?”  
“Whats wrong… with the world…?” Craig retorts back, eyes narrowed and hand placed on chin.  
“Don’t give me that Craig. not only do these suck, they scream “I have issues I need to talk out.”  
“Well, I don’t. Do you have issued you need to talk about?”  
“”It is your brother again?”  
“...Yeah…”  
“I keep telling you, you’ve just got to ignore them.”  
“Ugh, that's easy for you to say you’re an emperor? Prince? King? What are you again?”  
“You know that being a noble isn’t as cracked up as it is. I can’t do anything I want to do unless i go behind their back  
“I can’t do anything I want to do either! That asshole keeps yelling at me all the damn time! “Why don’t you get that stupid musician idea out of your head?! Meh, meh meh meh,” craig says in a mocking tone, his hand opening and closing like a puppet.  
“You really don’t know how luck-”  
“You don’t know how lucky you are! You live in a palace and all you do is complain, complain, complain-”  
“You do the exact same thing, don’t give me that shit Craig!”  
“...Say you’re right we both do the same shit! We’re the same! I just have more limbs!”  
...How did the rest of that conversation go…?  
Didn’t we go out to eat…?  
I can’t remember anymore…  
I think I still have a picture from that day somewhere…

...

Cap’n snaps out of his thoughts and is suddenly thrust into reality, he’s 3 years shy of being 100, he isn’t 15, and he’s sitting on the bench in the remains of what Octo valley used to be, watching DJ Octavio sleep in his snowglobe while still having his tentacles curled around his wasa- Wait, it’s night?! When did that happen?!  
“It’s alright gramps, I’ll take the night shift.” Marie seemingly appears out of nowhere, wearing her kimono and holding a umbrella.  
“O-oh Marie- I was just-”  
Marie squints, giving him a suspicious look, “What’s wrong?”  
“Just thinking about… how fast time goes by.”  
“Eh… What are you talking about?”  
He quickly trie to change the subject, “ You don’t need to worry about me squiddo! I can handle watching him for a night!”  
Out of the corner of his eyes he sees him movement in the snowglobe. Guess he really isn’t sleeping.  
“Last time you said that you fell asleep and he nearly escaped. I can handle it, go sleep inside the cabin gramps.”  
“But-”  
“You’ve been watching him all day, take a rest.”  
“...Well… If you insist.”  
Cap’n thrusts open the small door and Marie takes a seat on the bench, he stares at her for a moment before piping up a final time,  
“Good night, squiddo.”  
“Good night Gramps.”

Before he can go to sleep, he visits the beast that sleeps underneath the cabin, he digs around in photo album after photo album and-  
Hold on. A love poem…?  
The paper had been wrinkled and stuffed behind a photo of Octavio frowning, how old was he then?  
In deep thought, Cap’n carefully unfolds the crumpled piece of paper and reads:

“Oh what a creature you are!  
Such elegance, such grace!  
When I hear you call my name on your sweet lips-  
My whole world is forever changed!”

Cap’n stares at in silence for a long moment and heads to bed.

But not even sleep can chace what happened all that time ago.

Craig was 16 when he first realized he was in love with his best friend. No matter how hard he tried to forget, but he always remembered, how it felt when he first realized, how fast his heart beat, how dreamlike it was, before the sick feeling came upon him and he crashed down harder than a airplane.

Like with everything else in his life, he vented this out through writing lyrics, but he quickly realized that was terrible idea after Octavio read one out loud.

“Your tentacles haunt me at night.  
Your skin so smooth I’ll-”  
“Youweren’tsupposedtoreadthat!” Craig yanks it out of his hand, cheeks red and loose papers flying.  
“So you have a crush?”  
“W-w-what?! No?!”  
“You’re awful at lying Craig, I almost read an entire… thing about how pretty some girl is. You don’t need to lie to me, so what you have a crush on some octoling girl in town you share classes with?”  
“I-I don’t have a crush, and that’s that!”  
“Sure you don’t.”

After that he wrote them late at night and hid them in his futon. Once it started getting crinkly when he rolled it up to put it back into the closet, he started hiding them in a drawer with a fake bottom. Now he was just left with his thoughts. How handsome he was, what it must feel to kiss him, what does it feel like to kiss? Would he be awful at it the first time? How could he ever tell him without ruining their friendship? Was it worth saying anything at all?  
Eventually the answer to that last one was no. It wasn't.

Although he doesn’t want to admit it… sometimes…  
Shut up.”  
Sometimes…  
“I mean it, shut up stupid thoughts.”  
He still gets that same feeling in the very pit of his stomach.  
“That’s not true, now go to sleep stupid head of mine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this feels so fufilling to me. I thank all of you. I hope you all enjoy this as much I do writing it.


	4. Travels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's time to go back home."  
> "This IS my home!"

It is a warm summer's evening. His mother outside taking down the last of the laundry for the day, he’s sitting on the back porch, the cool sweet taste of the vanilla ice cream on his tongue, the fireflies starting to come out and dance along the sky, he hears the metal clang of the mailbox being opened from the front.

“Honey!” Immediately something strikes him as off, his father sounds the happiest he has EVER heard him, and ever will.  
“Yes dear?” his mother looks up in the direction of his father's voice, looking just as surprised as he is.  
“You’re going to want to see this letter!”  
Hastily his mom gathers the last of the laundry and heads back inside with the basket in hand. He hears gasps and chatter before his father boasts out-  
“United federation is going so much better economic wise, we can back now!”  
What.  
No.  
No.  
Go back?!  
“What about Brett?” she asks, voice full of concern.  
“Pssh, he’ll be fine in the city by himself, we know what university he goes too, we can just send him letters.”  
No, no, no I can’t go back!  
“I don’t know honey… We’ve gotten so used to life here and-”  
“You know this was never permanent, so don’t give me that bullshit! I’ve said from the beginning, as soon as things get better, we’re moving back!”  
“We can’t move back!” Craig doesn’t remember getting up and going into the room they’re in, nor did he mean to say anything, he swallows uneasily once he sees his father's icy glare.   
“What bills do you pay for in this house for you to speak to me like that?!”  
Craig stays quiet, wishing he hadn’t brought it up at all.  
“Well?! You’re a man aren’t you?! Speak up!”  
“I...I have friends here and-”  
“Please, let me guess, the musician dream again?  
“It’s not just a dre-“  
“Yes it is. You’re a no good nobody, you gave up sports which was the only thing you were decent at. You’ll be lucky if the military will take ya.”  
“Harold!”  
“What? It’s true? He’s a good for nothing, bad grades, doesn’t do sports, no job, look at him, then look at his brother and it's like night and day. Quit your damn complaining and pack up your shit, we’ll be leaving as soon as we can.”  
“...” Craig feels as if he’s about to burst with emotions, rage, frustration, sadness, it's all boiling boiling boiling, and it's about to spill out of the pot.  
“Well? Hurry up!”  
“...” In the end, he doesn’t say anything, he goes to his room, scribbles down a song, and sneaks out.

“Can you BELIEVE him?! He’s such a fish-fucking asshole!!!” Most of the other feelings from earlier has fizzled out, leaving only pure rage.   
Octavio just looked solemn as he skimmed over what Craig had wrote and set it aside.  
“...You’re moving back to the united federation…”  
Craig froze, and the fiery rage was snuffed out.  
“Oh… oh yeah…”  
Craig sat next to him and sighed.  
“...I actually will have to go back… and I won’t even be able to send you any damned letters…”  
“...”   
Silence passes, after a moment Octavio speaks up.  
“...You’re a month away from turning 17.”  
“Yeah…?”  
“And a year after that you can do whatever you want.”  
It all clicks in Craigs head and his eyes go wide at what he’s trying to say.  
“Yeah… Yeah! When I’m 18, a-and you’re the king or whatever, you’ll send me a letter and I’ll be able to come back!”  
“Exactly.” Octavio grins at him, “Don’t slack off writing while you’re there.”  
“Of course not!” Craig beams back at him.  
“Oh, since you won’t be here for your next birthday…” Octavio rummages around the room while Craig just stares, confused.  
“Here.”  
He hands him a captain’s hat. It feels rough and cottony, navy blue in color, with a smooth gold emblem in the front, the symbol for octo valley.  
Craigs eyes light up and fill with stars, “wow! Where in the world did you get this? It’s amazing!”  
“Thought you’d like it. Do me a favor and don’t lose it alright?”  
“Of course I won’t!," he huffs.  
“I believe you.” 

A week later, Craig says goodbye to yukatas and kimonos, festivals in the summer, and the twang of the shamisen.

Cap’n snaps back out of mind, the sky blue, and the sun, bright as always, smiled at him. He takes off, and takes a look at his hat.  
What was once hard and cottony was now soft and worn, a big green patch sewn on, from when a octoling missed him by just the nick of his tentacles. The emblem that was on there once upon a time had long since been replaced with the one from the squidbeak splatoon.   
Cap’n looked up at Octavio and… he had a longing desire to say something anything, the words rose up to his throat, yet…  
He just couldn’t force them out.

 

Going back to United Federation was… weird.  
It felt so eerily familiar, and some things was dug out of the back of his memories and hit him full force in the stomach. But at the same time, the dialect he could understand… barely, but after about 10 years of not much practice, you might asked a fish to start walking.  
His last 2 years in high school were especially hard, not being able to communicate well with anyone, and they thought… he was weird.

“Why are you taking your shoes off?”  
“Eh?”  
Craig was in the main entrance, bent over and taking off his black loafers, Craig had worn his black uniform simply out of habit, and it wasn’t until now he realized everyone was staring at him like he wasn’t from this world.  
“..,.What?” he tried asking, his accent making its way through.  
“Why are you taking your shoes off?”  
He looks around, and realizes that everyone still has their shoes on, and there was no place to put them. He hastily put them back on and stands up  
“What are you wearing?”  
“...yu...Yu-ni-fo-mu.”  
“What?” he can hear giggles from the people watching, he knows his face is heating up with blush, stupid accent...  
“Yu-Yu-ni- Yu…”  
“We’re not in Island of Water, you Crumb.”  
“Ku-ram-bu?”  
The boy who was talking to him gave him the weirdest look, and shook his head, giving up on talking to him, all Craig could do is stand there, and wonder what he did wrong.

Luckily, High school didn’t last forever, and he did eventually graduate with C’s across the board, except in literature where he had to go to summer school for since he got a “D”, he also got a “A” in choir, despite being what they called at the time, an “Ickie.” Someone who didn’t like popular music, whic was true. He much rather listen to the records he brought with him, nobody else ever got it like he did.  
As soon as he graduated, he was getting pressured by his father to “go get a job” this and that. So, he rolled up his sleeves, and got to work. Which, as it turns out was a lot harder than he thought it to be.   
He worked several odd jobs, delivering newspapers, fisherman, chimney cleaner, whatever there was, somehow or other he was fired for something, like in the job cleaning chimneys, he tripped on the roof and landed on the owners car breaking the windshield, which, despite the injuries, got him fired.  
So, with the debt from the hosquiddle, and his father threatening to kick him out, it seemed like is dad was right, there was only one place he could go where they would accept him, the military.  
But first, he had to see if his parents would send him his mail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's amazing that this has 67 hits here and 3 on wattpad. Really shows you the difference in cultures on the two websites.   
> This story, has 2, maybe 3, I haven't decided yet, chapters left. I hope you all will stick through until then.


	5. Rise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moving on up.

Most of his memories of the war are blurry, the fine details fuzzy and nonsensical in his mind. He’d like to think he remembers most of it, but probably not.  
The military divided itself up into splatoons, usually 5-10 agents in size, with a captain in charge. With tensions between the two species rising, militarism, the preparation for war was spreading, and while before there was a dozen or so splatoons, now increased to about 50, not a huge number but was a very dramatic increase in a very short span of time- it caught the attention of the octarians.  
Diplomatic discussion was called, and it was decided representatives from the two sides were needed. For whatever reason, Craig was decided to be one.  
“Eh me? Why me?”  
The Captain took a long drawl from his cigar, and slowly breathed the smoke out, Craig frowned and fanned the smoke away from his face.  
“I don’t know kid, orders from higher up, quit your whining and just be polite to whoever's in charge, else I’ll get in trouble and you’d kiss yer sorry ass goodbye.”  
He just sighed, and nodded.   
“Whoever it is will come inna week, prepare yerself for then.”

A week passed by and Craig was supposed to meet whoever it was at the Sunsar River bridge, a stone bridge that was built several hundred years ago by invaders of neighboring countries. They say that people who meet on the bridge are destined to meet again someday.  
Craig figured that he could tell whoever it was the stupid-ass myth about the bridge, and how the two lovers from the country and the invading country fell and love and died on the bridge and yadda yadda yadda. He wondered who the shell fell for baloney that.   
Wait…  
“Octavio?!”  
“Craig…?”  
Apparently shortly after Craig and moved back to the united federation, Octavio was roped into this mess, therefore no letter. Craig didn’t blame him and told him told him the dumbass myth about the bridge, Octavio got a short laugh and liked it.  
They bid their goodbyes until the met a few days from then.

Fast forward a few months, tensions have done nothing to decrease and the number of splatoons have increased to 75. Octavio and Craig met on the bridge like usual, Craig couldn’t remember why or how but… They had a big argument that day, and eventually it evolved into…  
“You squids are all the same!”  
“What the shell do you mean by that?!”  
“Selfish, big headed, and egos the size of Jupiter!”  
“YOU Octarians are the ones with big egos here!”  
It went on and on like that, scathing words and burned worse and worse as time went on, words that Craig couldn’t remember. Eventually they both left in a huff.  
The next day was when the tides had risen. Craig’s whole world had been tossed upside down.

The great turf war, as it was dubbed later as, started badly for the inklish. Namely because they had trouble waking up early in the mornings. It was a little bit funny until he remembered the 5 agents that died. Even after fixing that issue though, the Octarians were the ones with the superior technology, and still kicked their asses. Casualties hadn’t gone up but injuries were through the roof, to the point that materials for armor and medical supplies were in short. It also didn’t help that his captain was particularly useless, strategy and planning ahead weren’t at all his strong suit. There were rumours that he’d bought off the previous captain when he was retiring so he’d appoint him.  
Craig was getting more and more and more tired of this by the day, eventually he got a bright idea, a light bulb went off in his head with a merry ding. He’s start his OWN splatoon! Yeah, and he’ll name it the squidbeak splatoon! And he’ll be his own captain!  
In his excitement he ran around trying convince people to join him, he managed to convince two individuals before his “captain” came and started chewing him out.

“What the fuck are youse goin’ on about?!”  
“Er- uh-”  
“You think you can just prance around here, talking how youse starting your own damn splatoon without me fucking noticing?! If you think yer all that then youse can take it on heel and toe!”  
“That what I was planning!” Craig yelled back at him, determination rising.  
“Then beat it!”  
Craig hightailed it out of there with only the two other agents, and a tent.

Word quickly spread of the splatoon, nobody had ever tried to start one themselves up till that point, truly Craig’s invention was a first of its kind.   
Craig now was to be referred to as Cap’n. Most people who knew him passed the word around that he is sure to fail, he has not one strategic bone in his body, and whatnot.  
While it was true that he did not have much experience besides a few licks, he did have a knack for strategy. He seemed to always have a good idea where the enemy was going to be, an ability that was more of a surprise to him than to anyone around him. Due to this he was able to achieve many-a-victory and word of him passed around like wildfire. He soon became the most well-known of the splatoons and soon enough, many were running to him, asking to join.

A few years pass. Cap’n has gotten a little older, a little wiser, and a bit of a soul patch going. It looks awful but nobody is going to tell him that to his face. The war has been going on for a while at that point, and enthusiasm on both ends s at a all time low. A silver lining did show it’s way through, there have been numerous reports of Octavio himself appearing on the front lines. This was a win, because they knew the octolings loooooved Octavio. If they were to defeat him, the war was sure to end!   
Craig was thinking about this in his tent when he heard  
“Sir, someone out here is looking for you.”  
“Someone?”  
“Yes sir, he claims to know you.”  
“What’s the name?”  
“Brett, sir.”  
No way.  
Craig leapt up to his feet and went outside.  
It was way.  
Brett looked a lot different then before, to say he’s “grown up” would be an understatement, 8 years apart had done a lot to him. He looked nothing like the baby-faced 18 year old he remembered.  
“Hey! Long time no see!”  
“S-sure has, why are you here…?”  
“Being a lawyer is boring after awhile, sure all the monies nice but i need a change of pace. So I thought- Hey my bro’s in the military, why not join?”  
Cap’n stands there for a second, feeling dumbfounded, He let Brett join and had begun to instruct him personally on how to use a weapon. He had 0 experience before hand.  
“Alright, keep your arms straight, eye on the target…”  
It was a sunny day, Brett had his eyes firmly on a bulls-eye target, crudely in the shape of a Octarian.  
“FIRE!”  
A shot of ink ran through the air, but it never reached its target.  
Brett laid crumpled on the floor, the smell of his ink nauseating.

Cap’n got a telegram from his folks. It read:  
“Never talk to us again STOP.”

From that point on, Craig always inspected weapons before use.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was a hard one to write... and i'm not really happy with it still... I'm very sorry it took so long. I hope you enjoy, the next will most likely not take as long to write.


	6. New tidings

Cap’n felt ill thinking about how his brother died. He quickly pushed the scene of his lifeless body on the ground... surrounded with… the wrong ink-  
Nausea forced those thoughts away. He sighed and closed his eyes, and felt the darkness wash over him. His eyes slowly closed and the sunny landscape around him grew dimmer, and dimmer.  
He felt his consciousness slip away and did nothing to stop it. His cheek grazed against the cool wooden bench. Sleep spread their arms wide open, and held him in a firm grasp.

The war marched on. Life marches on, forward, forward. Cap’n tried to tell himself to get over his death, he never cared about him anyways. Get over your Mom and Dad never wanting to see you again, they were both an ass and hated you anyway.   
Of course, if it were that easy, grief wouldn’t exist. So began him throwing himself into his work without a care for anything else. Hours were spent planning and stradegitizing his next move, and analyzing and getting word on where Octavio was next.  
The war was ending, at least it was on the verge of, the year is 1952 and resources on both ends were dwindling. Octavio’s army was getting smaller and smaller. It was the same on the inklings side. There were only three splatoons left. By the end of the year, it has gotten even smaller. there was only one. It was clear to everyone the end was soon to come.

The air was crisp and the leaves were changing from green to lovely shades of yellow and red. The sun was low in the sky and hues of reds and orange were lovingly painted into the sky. Cap’n was finishing up the last of his weapons check and was going to dish out the last bit of orders and head to his tent.   
At least, he was going to.  
But then he heard... it. The thump, thump, thump. The beating of the drum. The pitter patter of footsteps. Scathing tongues speaking a foreign language.  
It was the Octarians. Leading them was a all-too familiar face. His glare pierces Cap’ns very soul. Cap’n swallows the rush of emotions down and rush over back to the camp.  
“THE OCTARIANS ARE HERE! GET YER ASS INTO FORMATION!”  
There was a scramble for weapons, blasters and rollers and brushes being snatched up quickly. They barely had enough time to get into formation when the octarians stormed in.

 

The fight was a blur of ink. Flying, flying everywhere… Cap’n never could remember battles very well… and this was no exception.  
The ink stained and smeared on the ground. His agents fallen around him. He could feel the sting of some of their ink. It’s pink cheeriness burning, burning into his flesh. He swallowed nervously. Octavios glare stuck right into the very pit of his soul. His brush dripped menacingly, smiling at him. Cap’n raised his bamboozler. This was it. He leaned forward, trigger held, and charged.

It was a fierce battle. Ink majestically flew and shots sprung across the battlefield. The battle was fought in bursts. They would fight, then the dust would settle, and they’d sneak around in ink, and fight again.

Cap’n stealthily creeped around in his ink, feeling it’s coolness wash around him. He’s in his sights. He’s… standing. Oh. He’s trying to help one of his army…  
Octavio gently held the octoling in his arms, he ripped a piece of his clothing off and wrapped it around his arm. 

Cap’n knew. He had to.

...

Standing above him, seeing his once good friend covered head to toe in his ink, scars fresh on his body, he felt something he couldn’t quite explain.  
“I-it’s over Octavio. Give up.”  
Capn’s eyes widened as he saw an expression of what could only be described as pure hate across his face. One of the few Octarians that were left helped him stand up.  
“It’s not over. It will NEVER be over. I will NEVER forgive you for what you have done to me. You… Inklings-” he spits the word out with as much venom he can muster “-do not deserve this victory. I will be back. “  
His back turned away, he turned into his Octo form, making the   
“I loved you.”  
Octavio stops. The world is completely silent for a long moment. Until he speaks those words… that haunt his dreams and remind him of the thing he regrets most…   
“...You should have said something earlier.” 

And like that, the biggest war in history ended. The octolings went underground, and they were thought to be extinct. The country of United Federation was in shambles for a long time after that, their economy was completely fucked over. Again. Their large amounts of military spending on the war had led to huge debts that needed to be paid off. Taxes had risen and thousands of workers were laid of within the week. The invasion of the octarians had also allowed other countries to swoop in and take huge chunks of the country, and they had left imprints of their language and culture that they needed to wash out. The only thing that seems to have never changed was the large amount of inklings in said country. Although they are a very important country now, they never did recover to the height they were before the war. Other countries shared the same fate, and they learned their lesson- don’t spend millions of dollars on a race war.   
Cap’n was recognized for his efforts in the war and was paraded around with the title of a “hero” with the shiny medals to prove it. This was enough to convince the rest of the family to remain in contact with him; but as his parents said, he never ever spoke to them again. It turned out that Brett had a kid and wife when he left. He thanked his lucky stars she didn’t blame him for his death and he did the best he could as an uncle. That child went on to have grandchildren, a girl named Callie. Cap’n could clearly remember-

“Morning gramps!”  
Cap’n spun his head to the side.  
“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Callie asked, a cute little grin across her face.  
“You’ve been acting… odd the past few days. You alright?” Marie chimed in.  
“....” He stood up and walked over to the snowglobe.  
“What are you-”  
The only answer was a loud CRASH and the glistening pieces of glass raining down from where the snowglobe once rested. Callie and Marie are shocked and speechless, Octavio’s eyes are as wide as saucers. Cap’n reaches out and brushes the glass off the top of his head, pricking his finger.  
“...You shouldn’t be stuck in that snowglobe. You deserve better, y-you…”  
“...” he just stares at him.  
“The war was years ago. We should move on from it. W-we don’t need to keep fighting you and I… “  
“....”  
It was hard trying to talk to him. He wasn’t ever the best at speeches  
“...We used to be friends..”  
“...”  
He stared at Cap'n for a long moment. He looked to his side with a mornful expression and then...  
“Okay.”  
Cap’n felt himself perk up. “Okay?”  
“...I’ve already lost.”  
That was progress. He didn't seem to completely hate him. Maybe they can’t go back to the way they used to be…  
But for now…  
This was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the final chapter! Thank you all who may have followed this alllll the way through, and readers from the future! How's it holding up? Is global warming still a thing? Is it out of our hands? Hope not!  
> I wrote a draft a looooong time ago involving Pearl/Marina. Might be my next project, or something megaman related. Whatever it is, I'm not expecting you to give it a shot. If you liked this, it's more than enough for me.  
> Happy reading!

**Author's Note:**

> It's nice being able to have the freedom to do whatever I want, nothing is canon, everything is nothing, I didn't even need to keep the name Craig, hahahahaha


End file.
